CdF - Forgotten Saints
by KaraLJ
Summary: Begins between books 3 and 4 of the saga, Riley Brooklyn, a 17 year old girl who was raised by a pack of wolves, encounters a vampire before the start of the story, who blood her, before being killed by her loyal family, now faced with a life she never chose, she must learn to adapt, or die. Full Summary inside.
1. Introduction

I groaned as pain shifted through my body, my heart racing in my chest, the fall having taken nearly all my strength to prevent. I carefully dug my nails into the trunk of the tree, gingerly falling on my feet, my loyal friend at my side, waiting for me to regain what little strength I had left.

I had been trailing the Cirque for a few days now, only recently gaining enough speed to catch up. Mostly because they had set up camp outside a small town, deep in the hidden shadows. Misha, my eight year old companion, a shy, white and black she-wolf, had followed along side me, both when I was at my best and my worst. I looked down at the scars on my finger tips, once more cursing the monster than turned me into one of his kind.

Three weeks ago I was a normal, well, almost normal, seventeen year old girl, with my whole life ahead of me. I had dreams, ambitions, goals. But that all changed when he found me. When he took away my humanity, turning me into a monster. Or at the time, what I thought was a monster.

_**Three weeks earlier...**_

I listened as Misha let out one, final growl, moving her pack into formation, flaked on one side by Killer, her second in command, myself on her other. Though I was human, I was faster, quieter, and a skilled hunter. We were after our first meal of the night, a young, scared fawn. I wasn't thrilled about hunting the young creature, but it had to be done.

Right as we were about to move in, the pack spread out across the trees, hidden by the shadows and snow, a figure swept down, it's dark cloak flapping in the wind. I spun around, my hand instinctively flying to the small hunting knife I kept strapped to my thigh. The man towered over my short frame, his eyes wild with a look of pure blood-lust. I jumped back, tripping over Misha's large, furry frame.

The movements were too fast to follow. The pack scattered, either growling or howling or a mix of the two. Only Misha stayed at my side, her ears flat against her skull, her teeth bared, her fur standing on end. I shook behind her, my right wrist burning from the fall.

"You'll do," the man growled. He leaped towards me, grabbed my wrist and bit down into the soft flesh. I bit back a scream as he seemed to taste my blood before he grabbed both of my hands tightly in his own, digging ten sharp nails into the tips of my fingers. The pain sent me reeling. Though I was accustom to pain, nothing, I mean nothing, gave you more of a shock then having ten tiny cuts sliced into the soft flesh of your finger tips, at the same time!

"Hey!" I yelped as he pressed his fingers to mine. I felt my head swim as blood passed between us. Suddenly, Misha threw her head back and howled, a long, high howl that echoed long after she lowered her head.

What happened next, I'll never forget...

The pack moved in, each with eyes filled with fire, tails low, growl escaping their mouths. The four youngest wolves lunged forward, their teeth and claws working at the man's skin. They growled, tore and ripped with such force, it's a wonder the man didn't die in minutes flat. Next, all but Misha joined in, each making work of one limb or another.

The man was strong, and killed the youngest four in a few quick blows, but the older wolves continued to attack, until finally, Killer, our largest and most seasoned hunter, wrapped his sharp teeth around the man's throat, and clamped down, not even letting go as the man sank to his knees, life seeping out of him.

Misha stayed at my side until the snow and dust cleared. She cocked her head and waited until Killer limped over to her. She whined, then sank her teeth into the soft flesh of his neck, finishing off her last pack mate. At the time, I didn't know why I had just witnessed my pack – my family! - die in such a horrible manner, but later, I realized Misha was far smarter than I ever gave her credit.

She trotted off to retrieve the tiny he-cub who had hidden himself under a thick patch of bushes during the fight. The jet black cub was no more than eight weeks old, his mother laid dead on the ground a few feet off. I sighed sadly at the sad looking creature, before scooping him up and letting Misha take the lead.

* * *

I sighed at the memory, my hand resting on Misha's head as she led the way forward. She had scouted the area and knew the easiest route in. I wouldn't have even known to track the Cirque, had it not been for a strange, short man with green boots and a heart shaped watch. He told me to find the Cirque. That Hibernuis Tall would assist me, and fill me in on what had happened. He told me to hurry, that time was running out.

I was confused by his words, but figure I'd take the strangers advice. Since I had no home and all but one of my family had been killed, I had nothing to lose.

Over the course of the first two weeks, I'd noticed that I had grown stronger, faster, and could see, smell and hear better than I had before. I also noticed that meat wasn't helping my hunger as it had before. Instead, I had a longing for something I couldn't place, much like an itch you couldn't scratch. By the third week, I was feeling sick a lot more, for a lot longer of a period. I was unable to hunt, and could barely climb trees – something I had been extremely good at, even before that night.

I also noticed that I couldn't concentrate as well anymore. I couldn't keep my mind focused on Misha's enough to know her next move, whereas before, I knew exactly what she was going to do, long before she knew herself.

That was how I ended up being deemed the "Wild Child" in the first place. When I was a baby, I would bite and scratch like a cub, instead of cry and sleep like a normal infant. My mother, a poor, broken woman, who loved her children to death, but had too many to raise on her own, dumped me in a cave when I was two. From there, Misha's mother raised me as one of her own, her older cubs teaching me how to hunt, fight and survive. Misha was born seven years later, the only survivor of her mother's final litter. Her mother died during the delivery, leaving Misha to be raised by her aunt, who luckily, had recently had a litter of her own.

I could speak, read and write like a normal child, as well as cook, mend clothing, and do basic mathematics. I'd love to say I picked up on such skills myself, but it would have been a lie. When I turned 14, Social Services were informed of my existence, and for two years, I was locked in a room, being taught and 'trained' to be human. They released me on my 17th birthday, once they realized there was no saving me, and no way to ever get a wild, teenage girl adopted.

I returned to what was left of my pack and continued on, until that night. That night, the family that raised me, cared for me, and taught me all the fundamentals of survival, were killed. Misha remained loyal as ever, even when she had to half drag me through the roots and trees.

We reached the camp just as the sun was setting. I stopped and took a deep breath, silently praying that I'd be accepted, never to have to face the same attack a second time. Misha whined and pulled the deer hide blanket from my bag, jumping up so she could wrap it around me. The night was cold, even though I hardly took any notice. Then, she took off towards a trailer in the distance, as I followed close behind, the little cub trailing behind me, eager as ever to get under something warm and safe.

* * *

"Are you aware of what you are?" the extraordinarily tall man, Mr. Tall, asked me after I told him my story. He handed me a cup of coffee. I took a sip, grateful for it's warm, bitter taste.

"Human?" I asked skeptically.

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "Think about it, child," he said lightly.

I pressed my eyes shut and thought. An old wives tale came to mind in doing so.

"Vampire," I whispered, my eyes flying open. Misha whined and pressed her nose to my hand.

"Yes," Mr. Tall said nodding. "Who blooded you?" he asked.

"I don't know," I shrugged. I jumped as the door to the trailer opened. I looked up to see another man with a tuft of orange hair on his head, a long, ugly scar down one side of his face. He looked at me for a moment, before grabbing my wrist in an iron grip. I pulled away, Misha growling softly at my side.

"Stop," he said, his tone gentle. "She has been blooded," he said, looking up at Mr. Tall.

"Yes," he said again.

"By whom?"

"I'm not sure, Larten," he said with a shrug.

I looked between the two, before throwing my hands up.

"Enough with the rubbish!" I growled. My head was pounding, my body ached, and I still couldn't place what I was craving so horribly.

"She has yet to feed," Larten noted.

"Excuse me?" I yelped. He produced a small bottle filled with a thick, dark red liquid.

"Drink," he commanded. Without objection, I did.

The liquid slid down my throat, it's salty, rust like taste nearly gagging me, until I realized it eased the throbbing in my head. I drank heavily, hungrily.

"What is your name?" he asked when I was done. I slid my hand over Misha's back, my fingers drawing pictures in her fur.

"Does it even matter?" I asked sadly. "I'm not human anymore," I sighed.

"You never were," Mr. Tall said. Larten and I both looked at him, but he said no more.

"My name was Riley," I sighed. "But no one knew that. They called me anything from Mutt to Bitch," I added with a sad smile. "But my name's Riley. Riley Brooklyn. My last name's irreverent," I sighed with a shake of my head.

"You know what you are, yes?" he said softly.

"Yes," I sighed. I looked at Misha and smiled. "At least two made it out alive," I rubbed her ears tentatively, letting my thoughts wander. The little male cub was sitting in my lap, taking a much needed nap, his black fur matted and sticky with blood from their earlier meal.

I ignored the vampire and Mr. Tall as they discussed what to do with me, how I came to be, and what to make of the crazed creature of the night that blooded me in the first place. I was too busy thinking back to that night, wishing I could go back and change the course of events. But even if I could, it would have saved my humanity.

"Do you have any kin?" Larten asked some time later, as we were making our way to his trailer.

"Only Misha and Kovu," I said, nodding at the two wolves. Misha was nipping at Kovu's rear, keeping him from wandering off. "My mother left me when I was only 2 years old. I was raised by wolves for the majority of my life," I said with a shrug.

"Yet you speak fluent English?" he questioned.

"I spent two years in the system, give or take. I'm not as stupid as some think. I learned fast," I said with another shrug.

"How far off were you when you were attacked?" he asked. He hadn't been filled in on the whole story

"About 100 miles or so. I'm not sure exactly. But the pack kill him before he could get away," I said with a shake of my head.

"He did not try to flee?"

"No. He fought tooth and nail, but he didn't try to get away. He ended up dying when our second in command bit down on his throat," I explained. "I, in return, burned his body, along with those of my pack."

"You acted wisely," Larten said, studying Misha for a moment before stepping into his trailer. I followed, then called Misha and Kovu in. They followed and sat beside me, their eyes locked on the vampire.

"I did what had to be done," I sighed.

"How did the wolf who killed the vampire die?" he asked, watching as I started picking dirt from Kovu's thick coat.

"Misha killed him," I sighed. "I assume vampire blood causes an animal to go mad?"

"Aye," he said, before turning towards the window, which was covered with dark strips of tape. "It is a shame we do not know who he was or why he acted as such," he mused.

"I think justice was served," I sighed as I picked the cub from my lap and let him lick my nose. "What's to be of me now?"

"You will join me as my assistant, I suppose," he said after a long moment of thought. "You will learn along side Darren."

"Who's Darren?" I asked, eyes widening.

Larten smiled softly and looked out the window. It was dark outside still, so he opened the door and waited for me to follow him.

After a few minutes of walking through camp, Misha following at our heels, Kovu still locked in my arms, we reached a tent, where two boys were sitting, talking merrily. One looked no more than 13 or 14, wearing what looked like a pirate's costume, the other, looked a year or two younger than me, his skin a scaly greenish color.

"Darren, Evra, this is Riley. Darren, come with me," he introduced quickly, motioning for the younger of the two to follow him.

We walked a short way out of camp, while Larten filled Darren in on my story.

"So she'll be your assistant too?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes," Larten said. He saw me studying the boy and chuckled. "Like you, Darren is only a half vampire. He will teach you what he knows, and you will help him with his chores," he said.

"Fine by me," I shrugged.

"Mr. Crepsley, if you didn't blood her, who did?" Darren asked, eyes wide.

"I am not sure," he said with a shrug. I noted how he looked at the sky, seeing the pale silver of the rising sun on the horizon. "Riley, you will do as Darren says today, we will speak more tonight," with that, he walked off.

Darren studied me a moment longer, before smiling.

"So you're going to help me hunt for the Little People in a few hours. Why don't you try to get an hour or two of sleep before then?" he suggested.

"I need to tend to Kovu's coat, so I'll just stay awake," I said with a shrug. "I don't feel much like sleeping right now."

"It's overwhelming, isn't it?" he laughed softly. He motioned for me to follow. I did so, picking dirt and blood from Kovu's coat as we walked.

Darren filled me in on how he became a vampire and what he'd been up to. I learned that Darren had been with Mr. Crepsley – Larten – for just short of 6 years. He and the older vampire had been traveling with the Cirque for the better portion of that time. I learned about how he had to fake his death, among other things. He also informed me of the general bits of information I needed to know to avoid getting myself killed.

We hunted side by side once the sun was up. Misha enjoyed the extra set of hands, and eagerly raced back and forth, helping us gather food both for the Little People, as well as for herself and Kovu.

"How did you train them?" Darren asked, motioning towards Misha, who was ripping chunks of meet from the belly of a dead rabbit.

"I didn't. I was adopted into her pack when I was about 2. She wasn't born until much later, but her mother and older siblings raised me," I explained. "I didn't need to train them. I understood them perfectly well, and can even communicate with them," I smiled proudly.

"You can talk to wolves?" he asked, amazed.

"Sort of. It's more like I can understand them, and they can understand me," I smiled. "I couldn't talk until I was 14," I added, as if to explain. "But I could bark, growl, yap and yip just like a wolf."

"That's awesome!" he beamed as he helped me catch Kovu, who had fallen into a rabbits hole and couldn't get back out.

The day passed easily. Though in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but wonder what the future had in store. Had I known what I do now, I would have ran for the hills and never looked back!

* * *

_A/N;; Disclaimer - Cirque Du Freak, both the name and it's characters, storyline, ect belong completely to Darren Shan. I'm only borrowing them. :) _

_Summary;; Cirque Du Freak - Forgotten Saints begins between books 3 and 4 of the saga, 2 years before the pair make their way to Vampire Mountain. Riley Brooklyn, a 17 year old girl who was raised by a pack of wolves, encounters a vampire before the start of the story, who blood her, before being killed by her loyal family. Before she could die of starvation, she is greeted by none other than Desmond Tiny, who tells her to find the Cirque, where she will learn about what she is and how to survive.  
_

_Now that Larten has agreed to take her on as another assistant, in hopes of learning more about the vampire who attacked her, she is faced with dangers, fears and hope only a vampire could face. Follow her, as she makes her name known, in CdF - Forgotten Saints!  
_


	2. Chapter 1

I watched from my spot under a huge tree, while Misha and Kovu ran around the field. Kovu had grown quite a bit in the six months since we made our way to the Cirque. Along with his growth spurt and new found love for running and barking, Misha came back to camp two months earlier with three young wolves, all no more than two or three years old. To my amazement, they seemed to fit right in with Misha and Kovu, and before long, they became part of our family.

I watched as the sun began to set for a few minutes, before calling the small pack back. Misha led, followed by the two new females, who I had named Harmony and Melody, because when they howled, they howled in perfect synchronization, with Kovu and the new male, little Hunter, at their heels. I darted through the grass, smiling as the pack formed a half circle behind me.

"Misha," I whispered. She tilted her head back and let out a low howl, her ears against her skull. I doubled back, using a small rock as a board – and soared through sky for a whole second. I landed gingerly on Misha's back, my feet planted firmly into her fur.

And we were off. The pack stayed in perfect formation, until I gave the silent command to fan out. A low hanging branch served as the perfect bar, and as I gripped tightly and began to flip, I noticed that even Hunter – who was less willing to obey me – was waiting for the next move. I let go of the branch and rolled into a front flip before landing on my hands, right in front of Hunter's vicious jaws. He looked down at me, before licking my nose.

I rolled over and laughed, unable to contain the excitement. It was effortless on my part, to get the wolves to obey minor commands, but it was thrilling to see even the ever stubborn Hunter was willing to learn the harder, more extravagant commands.

"You are good on your feet," a voice chimed. I whipped around and saw Mr. Crepsley standing behind me, having seen the better part of the performance. "Graceful and surefooted."

"Years and years of practice," I said truthfully. I'd always had a knack for flips and turns – it came with being raised wild.

"Have you ever considered performing?" he asked with a serious tone.

"Not since becoming a half-vampire," I said honestly. "I have way too much to learn and deal with."

"You could still perform. It would give your mind a break for a change," he pushed. He knew how much I had been stressing over the issue, and knew that life as a half-vampire was not easy for me, especially since I had no control over my own destiny.

"I'll consider it," I sighed. I led the way back to camp, the pack at my heels. It took me half a second to remember where our trailer was, but once I did, I locked the older wolves in, leaving only Kovu at my side.

The young wolf followed me through camp as I helped assemble the tent, before helping Darren and a few other hands put up chairs.

"Why is the dog in tow tonight?" one of the children of one of the adults asked. He pointed at Kovu, who was carrying a basket of fruit in his mouth.

"Wolf," I corrected. "And because I have a plan," I added skipping off merrily. I couldn't help but replay the conversation Mr. Crepsley and I had had only moments before. I darted through the mass of people, Kovu following close behind, familiar with both the layout of the camp, and the excitement that bubbled over before every show.

I made it to Mr. Tall's trailer in record time. I was surprised to see him waiting for me, though I shouldn't have been – Mr. Tall had a knack for knowing something about everything. I didn't even need to explain myself, he simply nodded his head and told me I was to go on after Mr. Crepsley. I smiled and darted back to my trailer, this time to tidy up the pack and pray for a tiny miracle.

I had to wash the small pack, brush out their coats, and clip brightly colored collars around their necks, without even a chance to catch my breath. Mariah and Cody, the older children of a woman who helped mend clothing and cook for the Cirque, were helping me dry down their coats when Mr. Tall appeared.

"You need something more appealing to wear," he tutted, nodding at me ragged jeans and torn jacket. In the blink of an eye, he appeared to pull a bright, beautiful red outfit from thin air. I thanked him, and left the children to tend to the wolves while I changed.

I spun around in front of the mirror for a moment, amazed by how the bright dress complimented both my thin frame, but curves and all. I decided to let me long, jet black hair flow down my back, all too aware that my mossy brown roots were growing in. I smiled one last time, then fetched the leashes from the back of my bag before rejoining my pack.

"You look...wow," Cody stammered.

"Shut up," I laughed as I clipped the leashes to each of the wolves. Misha and Kovu were accustom to leashes, but Melody, Harmony, and Hunter were another story. They growled and tugged, trying to free themselves, until I finally gave in and allowed them an extra inch each. Once they realized that they were in no danger, they calmed down and walked quietly beside me as I quickly made my way to the back of the tent, slipping in just as Mr. Crepsley and Darren were starting their act.

"Nervous?" a familiar voice asked. I turned to see Evra Von, the snake boy...or rather, snake man, standing behind me.

"A little," I admitted. Though I knew exactly what I wanted to do, I wasn't sure if it'd work out as planned.

"You've spent the last few months teaching them, do you think it'll pay off?" he asked in a hushed tone. He had his snake wrapped around his neck, but the pack was uneasy, still not completely used to the hectic lights, noises and excitement.

"I hope so. I know the act, the moves, everything. I'm just not sure if they're going to perform as planned," I admitted.

"Break a leg," he laughed as he nodded towards the stage. I could see that I had only minutes left before I'd be up. I glanced at my loyal pack, proud of how far the new additions had come, yet nervous about the act before us. One wrong move could prove dangerous, even for a half vampire like myself. I waited until both Mr. Crepsley and Darren came behind the curtain, before cornering them.

"If something goes wrong, which one of you can grab their attention faster?" I asked, nodding to the pack. "Misha can control them, once the connection is made," I added.

"I can," Mr. Crepsley said with a nod. "What do you mean, if something goes wrong?"

"I have a bad feeling, that's all," I said with a shrug. "It's probably nothing. Everyone's ready for this," I added as I knelt beside the newer three wolves, unclipping their leashes. I hung them on the back of a nearby chair, before turning back to my mentor. "Misha's trained to freeze under the most severe of circumstances. All you'll have to do is establish a minor connection for her to listen. Worst comes to worst, just shout 'Claudicatis!' and she'll stop, but her control over Mel, Harm, and Hunter won't be as strong," I explained.

"Latin?" he asked skeptically.

"Yeah. It was easier to use than English," I admitted. "You have to remember, I spent 14 years knowing very little English. I spent a few months hanging around a Latin neighborhood and picked up on some of language."

"What sort of problems are you expecting?" Darren asked, gingerly rubbing behind Misha's ears.

"I haven't the slightest idea," I admitted. I took a deep breath and nodded to the pair. "Show time."

"Our next performer is new to the Cirque. Her talent and skill surpasses our wildest dreams. Her charm, almost as amazing as her unspoken gift, will be seen for the first time, tonight! Please welcome, Riley Brooke!" Mr. Tall announced. I'd asked to have my middle name shortened, just for show. I turned to the wolves and nodded as the audience applauded. I stepped carefully onto Misha's back and concentrated, moving the remaining four wolves into formation.

I rode onto stage atop her back, my heart pounding as I focused all my energy on keeping my balance. She stopped in the center of the stage, her head tilted back, a howl leaving her lips. When she bowed, I leap from her back and landed a foot in front of her, my feet landing with a soft thud. I kept one eye on her as I edged towards the front of the stage, making a point to move with precision.

I flicked my hair off my shoulders as I looked out into the sea of faces, nerves nearly getting the best of me.

"Tonight, you will witness a show of great skill, balance and strength. Before I begin, I must ask, please, keep the noise minimal until the end of the act. Do not make any sudden noises, for a single wrong move could prove deadly," I watched as eyes locked with mine before continuing. "And, for obvious reasons, please, do not attempt this at home. Wolves are wild animals, and should not be treated as anything but. I was raised by this pack, from a very young age, and have never forced nor encouraged them to become pets. This pack is special, and extremely obedient, due to the natural order of pack mentality."

I waited until the room was filled with an eerie silence before turning to Misha, who was still in a low bowing position. I let out a low growl, more for the audience than the pack. The dogs understood my commands far easier than I put on. At the sound of my growl, Misha straightened and let out four short yips. I backed up another foot, my toes the only things keeping me planted on the stage, while my small pack of five stepped forward from behind the curtains, Kovu and Melody on one side, Hunter and Harmony on the other, Misha in the middle.

The act was simple, nothing more than a great show of balance, strength and willpower. But from the first move, I knew something was going to go terribly wrong. I couldn't get perfect control over Hunter, nor the other three. Misha was so used to me, that she needed vary little direction. Nothing more than a simple thought to get her to where she was going. I felt uneasy, sick really. A thought buzzed through my head, but I disregarded it. A decision I would soon regret.

It began like it always did, the wolves forming a half circle around me, each bowing, their noses to the ground. I walked to the center and stood upon Misha's back. I let out what the audience would hear as yaps, though in reality, they were short words pressed closely together. The wolves began to move forward, the stunt going exactly as planned.

Midway through the act, I grabbed hold of the bar that hung several inches above my head and pushed off of Misha's back. She quickly turned to her pack and let out low whines, each one giving a certain command. I began to flip, letting my wrist bear the weight of my body with every turn, until I had just enough speed to propel myself from the bar.

It should have worked perfectly. Everything had been timed to the millisecond. But as soon as I neared Hunter's back, I realized I had misjudged the leap. I was going to fall short. The panic broke not only my concentration, but the connection I had been holding with the ornery wolf. He jerked back and growled, causing me to fall painfully, my wrists taking all the weight. I bit back a scream and focused. Hunter's attention was turned to the crowd, the lights making him look all the more ferocious. I glanced to my right and saw the remaining four wolves bowing, their noses to the ground. Mr. Crepsley remained hidden by the curtain, but I could see him concentrating, holding them where they stood. I took a deep breath and focused on Hunter. It took a moment, but once the connection was formed, he relaxed and stood on his hind legs, just as I had commanded. I stood beside him, deciding to end the act on a much easier, minimally dangerous stunt. I circled him and tutted just loud enough for the audience to hear, before silently commanding the young male to walk backwards, on his hind legs, before moving into an awkward roll. When he returned to all fours, I stepped gingerly onto his back, before telling him to bow.

With that, the act ended.

I cursed bitterly once we were outside, behind the tent. The pack had been led into the large kennel that we only used during and after shows, where they could do no harm to the swarm of people who came out to see the show. I was nursing the worse of my two wrists, trying to ease the ache out of my bones.

"What happened?" Darren asked as he came to my side, holding an icepack in his hand. I took it from him and nodded for him to follow. He stayed close as I tried to piece together what had happened.

"Hunter was distracted from the very beginning," I said finally. "I could feel his unease before I even called him out. If I had been paying attention, I would have had Kovu perform the last bit," I continued, wiggling my fingers to make sure the wrist was no broken.

"Why didn't you?" Darren asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because he's still too young. I might not weigh a lot, but having me on his back would prove too much. I've tried it before. He needs to grow a bit more before I use him as the lead male," I explained. "Anyway, it wasn't until the last stunt, that I lost what little hold I had on Hunter's mind. I got lucky that Mr. Crepsley managed to snap into action when he did. Harm and Mel still look to Hunter for orders, rather than Misha, so it could have ended pretty poorly had he not stepped in," I said with a shake of my head.

"You made it look like it was part of the act though," Darren said with wide eyes. "I almost thought it was."

"Experience. You never let someone know you've screwed up," I laughed. I handed the icepack back to him and flexed my fingers one last time. "Can you do me a favor?" I finally asked.

"Sure," Darren said without giving it a second thought.

"Go find Mr. Crepsley. I'll be in my trailer," I said before hurrying off. I was feeling pretty lousy, not only for screwing up on stage, but in general. My head was throbbing nearly as badly as my wrist, and I felt sick to my stomach. I struggled to make it to my trailer, but when I did, I quickly changed into a pair of black, tattered jeans and a bright purple camisole, one of my last outfits that weren't completely destroyed. After, I waited patiently for Mr. Crepsley to find me. Every passing moment, I felt myself growing weaker. Before long, even keeping my eyes open grew nearly impossible. Had I taken more notice to my life as a half vampire, and less to my pack and my new, enhanced abilities, I would have realized how dangerously close to death I had allowed myself to close in on. Even though I had been learning quickly, I'd yet to hunt on my own, and with nights consumed with learning, and days consumed with balancing chores and the pack, I soon forgot about my feeding habits. It was a wonder I'd made it this far without keeling over. Looking back, I realized I exceeded the odds, and lasted a full month without a drop of human blood. The only thing that puzzled me more than that fact, was the fact Mr. Crepsley hadn't noticed sooner. I knew, from Darren telling me, that he was good at keeping such things known. Yet, he never once got on me about feeding. Except maybe the first two or three times. After that, he more or less left it up to me. That thought in and of itself, left me feeling a little more alone in the world. Regardless, I waited patiently, doing my damnedest to keep my eyes open and my breathing steady.

I learned a valuable lesson that night. Never forget to feed. Because eventually, it'll catch up with you, and when it does, you're going to pay greatly for it.

* * *

_A/n;; As always, reviews are greatly appreciated! And don't worry, this is not going to end up being a Mary Sue story. I promise. Riley is definitely not the perfect character. ;) _


	3. Chapter 2

"When was the last time you slept?" Mr. Crepsley asked a few hours later, after we had made a short trip to feed. I was feeling more alert, but physically exhausted. We had stopped just outside of camp and were now sitting under a tree watching the stars as they passed across the sky.

"I slept some time yesterday," I shrugged. "Or two days ago? Something like that."

"You put off feeding far too long. You should not allow yourself to grow so weak," he said, his tone gentle yet stern.

"I won't," I promised.

"What has been bothering you? You were quiet all week," he finally asked. I looked at him and shook my head.

"You wouldn't understand," I said with a sigh.

"Maybe I will," he pushed.

"It's a human thing," I finally gave in. "Even though I never knew the love of a real family, I still lost my entire world that night."

"I can understand that," he said softly. "You almost lost your own life as well," he said.

"Yeah. I can't just get over that," I sighed before standing and leading the way back to camp. I noticed that Cody must have let the wolves out of the kennel, because they were roaming around looking for scraps, as they did every night. I called them over to the trailer and shut the door, feeling sorry for myself.

I sank onto the mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling, wondering when I would come to terms with that I had become.

* * *

The weeks passed quickly. Every night, Mr. Crepsley taught me and Darren, before allowing us time to get a few hours of sleep. Every day, Darren and I did chores, and every afternoon, I took the wolves out to hunt, before training them a little more. It became so repetitive, that by the fourth week, I finally snapped.

"I'm so freaking tired of this!" I growled, throwing the dead rabbit into the sack.

"What?" Darren asked, hauling his bag over towards me.

"This! I had more fun living in the wild!" I snapped.

"I sort of like the comfort," Darren shrugged. "You'll get used to it."

"I won't! I'm tired of feeling like a caged animal!" I puffed. Hunter looked up from his meal, his tail twitching at my tone.

"The wolves don't seem to mind," he pointed out. Kovu was hauling a dead fox towards camp, his tail wagging happily. Misha was laying under a tree, supervising the hunt.

"They're used to it," I grumbled.

"You'll get used to it soon," Darren laughed. "I hated being a half-vampire in the beginning too," he added.

"At least you gave up your humanity for a good cause," I sighed.

"Hey, don't be like that," he scolded. I growled and walked off, lugging the bag behind me.

I didn't stop walking until I was back at the camp, my mood still as sour as before. The only thing that brightened my mood, was the familiar sound of Misha whining softly next to me. I looked to my faithful friend and saw the tired look in her eyes. I knelt beside her and ran my hand down her boney spine.

Though in the wild wolves didn't live longer than seven or eight years, Misha was now nearing her ninth birthday, and though the food was plentiful, the fights few and far between, my loyalist four legged friend was nearing her end. I'd noticed the change in her appearance a few weeks prior – her fur was thinner, her energy a lot less, even her speed was slowing to the point I rarely allowed her to hunt with the younger, more energetic wolves. I smiled sadly and told her to return to the trailer, which I had sense had a doggy door installed in. She whined, but did as I said without question.

I wandered around the camp until I found Harmony. Her sister was watching over her tentatively as she licked her front paws, ridding them of the dirt and blood from the earlier hunt. The young she-wolf was carrying her first litter of cubs, and was due to have her litter in a few weeks time. It was a known fact that she and Hunter were extremely close, but the pairing of the two hadn't been apparent until recently.

"What are you going to do with the cubs when they're born?" Cody asked as he ushered Kovu over to us. The young male had taken over his mother's duties as the provider and 'beta' as I called him. Misha would not allow another of her pack to overthrow her until the night she passed on.

"Let the wolves decide, as I always have," I said truthfully. "I'm sure a cub or two will share the same gifts as their parents, but the rest may stray, start their own packs, or join an already established on," I explained. "The most successful litter I ever had the pleasure of watching grow and mature, was a litter of six, all of which stuck with the pack until they were old enough to mate. Only then, did they leave to find their own destinies."

"You know a lot about wolves then, huh?" he asked, eagerly wanting to learn more.

"I do, but no more than anyone else. A lot of their habits and ways of thinking are still unknown to me. I only know that of my pack. The faithful few who have raised me since I was an infant. They're of a completely different species. Wolves, none the less, but so much more," I shrugged. "Wild wolves are completely different from this pack."

"Are you sure they aren't part dog?" he asked skeptically, his hands rubbing over the black and white patchwork on Misha's pelt.

"No. At least, none other than maybe Misha," I said with a smile. "Misha, well I wasn't even sure she was wolf when she was born. She looked like a little collie pup," I laughed. "But she grew into her role."

"They're all stunning. Are you hoping for a large litter?" he asked, nodding at Harmony.

"Not particularly," I admitted. "Large litters tend not to survive, even under the best of circumstances. I'm not sure if Harm will be willing to deliver in our little 'cave' or if she'll wander off to find her own nook. If the later occurs, I might not even get to see a single cub," I shrugged. "But she is not of the original pack. She and her sister and mate can leave at any time."

"You'd willingly let them leave?" he gasped.

"Aye. They are wild animals, after all. I was blessed with their presence, but I hold no obligation over them. They're not of Mala's pack, nor will they ever truly be," I explained.

"Who is Mala?" a new voice chimed. I turned to see Mariah walking towards us, carrying a sack of scrap meat.

"Mala was my mother, so to speak," I said with a smile. "I couldn't speak English until well after her death, so when I was little, I would just blend sounds together, to give the wolves some sort of name. Mala stuck. Mala, Sodo, Oma, Lela," I laughed at the memory. "I wasn't very creative, but it got the job done. Misha was the first wolf to get a proper name."

"Really?" Mariah laughed. "I like your creativity though!"

"Haha, it worked out, for the most part. Plus, aside from Misha and Kovu, none of the wolves ever came when called. Everything was more telepathic and signal based," I shrugged. "I still name them though. More for my sake than their own!"

"Oh, Cody, before I forget. Mum wants you back at the tent. Said she needed your help with something," Mariah quickly said before tossing the scraps of meat to Kovu and Hunter, who ate eagerly. "You never did tell us how you convinced Mr. Tall to give you your own trailer!" she exclaimed as she handed me the bag I had asked her to hold earlier that day. The sun was beginning to set, and I knew the young girl would soon retire to the tent to help her mother mend clothes.

"I didn't need to. He directed me to it the first night I came," I laughed. "And it's a good thing he did! What with Kovu's dark coat, he'd be impossible to see at night, and he's scary enough to frighten some of the performers!"

"That's true!" she laughed happily as she skipped off. I smiled as she did so, my mood a million times better.

Sometimes I forget I'm a half-vampire, just for my own sanity. It's nice to have normal human children around. Especially ones that are so full of questions. I sat down in the middle of the small pack and watched as they soon broke free of their meals and wandered around camp, only Misha and Kovu sticking to me like glue, as always.

"Hey," Darren called as he walked over to us. I smiled up at him and patted the patch of grass beside me. From where we were, we could watch the sun set perfectly.

"Sit," I said with a smile. He sat and looked at me funny.

"You're in a good mood," he teased.

"I really am," I said blissfully. "For a change."

"What changed your mood?"

"Kids," I laughed. I absentmindedly rubbed behind Misha's ear, her warm fur reminding me of how much I loved my life, prior to the whole vampire world thing.

"It's beautiful," Darren remarked after some time. I nodded in agreement.

Late that night, Misha wandered off to a deserted part of camp, and heaved her last breath. Though I would mourn her death heavily, I took it as a sign that new things were in store. As her body was properly disposed of – either buried deep in the woods, or fed to the Little People, either of which was proper enough for me – I reminded myself that she had lived a fine life, and as her last days had proved, she was happy.

I fell asleep late into the morning, Kovu curled beside me, the rest, laying peacefully on the floor. My last conscious thought was about how amazing life really was at the moment, despite the loss of my beloved sister.

* * *

_a/n;; This chapter was actually not going to be until...oh say another four or five chapters, but I breezed through Books 4,5,6 and 7 of the saga, and am beginning to think far too far ahead. :P So I've decided to change my course of action with this particular part of the story, to advance onto the more...interesting parts. :D _

_**Note The Changes: Originally, this particular story was supposed to only span between books 3 and 4. But after a lot of thought, I've decided to use that as the beginning, rather than the entire story. ;) Hard to make up details about parts we never actually saw, right? :P As always, I'd love a little feedback! I promise, it's going to get a lot more interesting soon enough! **_


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